~How it All Began: Part 1~

It's not that Luke had never been in a cantina before, but he never stuck around long, especially when he would go behind Uncle Owen's back.

At every booth and barstool sat an odd humanoid from some corner of the galaxy that settled in Tatooine for its criminal tolerance and the easy wealth in taking jobs from the crime lord Jabba the Hutt.

The loud yet catchy band, the crowd of criminals, and the smoky atmosphere set his nerves on edge. The cantina in Tocshe Station was never this rowdy. He felt butterflies in his stomach and if it wasn't for his loyalty to Ben, he would have excused himself to wait outside.

  "Hey! We don't serve their kind!"

The sudden shout made the farm boy jump. The bartender was pointing at him, and Luke felt very small and self-conscious from all the eyes now staring at him.

  "W-what?"

  "Your droids. They'll have to wait outside."

To Luke's slight relief, he now realized the bartender was pointing behind him at C-3PO and R2-D2.

  "Why don't you guys wait outside? We don't want any trouble," he muttered to the protocol droid.

  "I heartily agree, sir."

Relieved that the whole episode was over and that he was now forgotten by everyone, Luke followed Ben Kenobi to the bar and sat down at an empty barstool. Ben was engaged in conversation with a tall, dark brown Wookiee. The old Jedi seemed to understand the low grunts and growls.

Luke tugged the back of the bartender's shirt gently and asked for a glass of water. His leg bounced a mile a minute and he rolled the glass nervously in his hands.

Luke was startled by a rough poking in his shoulder. He glanced over to find a human with a hideous scar covering half his sneering face.

  "He doesn't like you," the human translated bluntly for his drunk Aqualish friend. His breath smelled of liquor.

  Luke swallowed. "I'm sorry." What else could he say? He tried to turn back to his drink when the finger prodded him again.

  "I don't like you either. You better watch yourself. We're wanted men. I have a death sentence on twelve systems."

  "I'll be careful then," the boy replied automatically. The enraged drunk gripped his shoulder.

  "You'll be dead!"

Heart racing, Luke opened his mouth to defend himself when Obi-Wan stepped in.

  "This one isn't worth the trouble," he began smoothly with a calming smile. "Now let me get you something."

With a roar of rage, the scarred man launched the farm boy off his seat and he crashed into an occupied table. Dazed, Luke couldn't see what happened. All he heard was the familiar noises of a lightsaber and blaster fire. 

  "No blasters! No blasters!" 

He could make out a blur of blue, which was followed by a cry of pain. The youth blinked to clear the fog and stared in horror at the severed, Aqualish limb on the floor. He smelled burnt flesh, making his stomach flip.

As quickly as it happened, the ordeal was forgotten.

Luke took his mentor's offered hand, assuring him that he was all right. The two followed the Wookiee named Chewbacca to a booth and sat down across from him.

Then a tall man in a blue vest slid into the booth next to the Wookiee.

  "Han Solo. I'm captain of the Millennium Falcon."

* * *

Han Solo lifted his glass to his lips. It wasn't nearly as strong as the Corellian stuff he kept on his ship, but he wasn't looking to be roaring drunk. He needed to stay alert and on his toes. They were on Jabba's turf after all, and Han was looking for a job.

The woman on his lap giggled and massaged his shoulder muscles, fascinated by them.

  "Oh, Han," she cooed. "You've been gone for so long."

  He grinned at her. "Well, Sar–" Wait. Sarla was the girl from Serenno Spaceport. "–sweetheart, you know how it is. The jobs I get take me to every corner of the galaxy. Sometimes it's just to dangerous to show my face around the usual haunts. A guy like me, he just has to keep moving."

If she noticed his slip, she didn't show it.

Suddenly, Han heard the bartender shouting and saw him pointing at two droids. A kid with blond hair was startled, but after realizing what the manager wanted, told the droids to leave and the cantina returned to normal.

Han wanted to laugh. Judging by his attire, the young man was no more than a farm boy. His youth and innocence made him stand out among the thieves, murderers, and smugglers. Han could tell he was nervous. His leg was bouncing at the speed of light against the thin footrest of the bar and he couldn't keep his hands still. He even ordered water instead of liquor, showing his youth. Then Han remembered that they were on a desert planet and felt dumb.

Captain Solo was about to ignore the pair when he noticed the old man engage in conversation with his Wookiee co-pilot. Then his interest piqued. They didn't look like they could offer much, this made Han grimace, but a job was a job, and Han was admittedly desperate. He reached for his drink again.

  "Han..." the girl purred, begging for attention as the smuggler seemed uninterested.

Suddenly, there was a crash. Every head swiveled to the ruckus, even the girl. The band ceased playing for a moment to watch. Two criminals pulled blasters out and were facing that old man Chewie was talking to.

  "No blasters! No blasters!" the barkeep shrieked as he ducked for cover behind the counter. To his shock, the old man calming whipped out of glowing blue sword and redirected the plasma bolt. The blade sliced through the air and the Aqualish's arm dropped onto the floor. The alien screamed and stumbled back. Unperturbed, the old man turned off the lightsaber with a snap hiss and slipped it behind the folds of his cloak. The entire cantina was stunned to silence until the Bith band started up again and everyone returned to their own business as usual.

Solo searched for the source of the fight. The blond farm boy sat dazed in a pile of broken table pieces. He was staring at the severed arm before him with his mouth agape like a fish. He didn't seem like the type that would cause trouble, but maybe trouble finds him. That wouldn't do if Chewie agreed to take the job. Han already attracted enough trouble, according to the Wookiee.

Speaking of which, his furry co-pilot steered around the crowd to Han's booth. Chewbacca looked at the girl then stared at Han with exasperation in his eyes, partially hidden by his shaggy hair. The smuggler just shrugged helplessly.

  "This is Chewbacca, my co-pilot. Chewie, this is..."

Han paused, hoping the girl would jump in and introduce herself. Instead, she whipped her lush, dark brown hair off her shoulders and watched him dangerously, like a snake waiting to strike.

  "Um... Allea?" he guessed.

Chewbacca groaned. The girl promptly stood up, grabbed his drink, and threw the remainder in his face.

  "It's Jenny." Then she turned on her heel and stormed off.

Solo's partner snickered as he used his vest to dry his face.

  "Laugh it up, fuzz ball." Then he sighed. "So how did your conversation go with that old fossil?"

Chewbacca growled his answer.

  "Yeah. I dunno if I want that laser sword near my ship. I wonder where he got it. Where's the destination?"

Chewbacca answered with a single rumble.

  "Alderaan? Interesting. What's the job?"

Chewbacca was about to answer when Han noticed the old man guiding the boy towards them.

  "Never mind, pal. I think I'll find out soon enough. Take them to that booth over there, will ya? It's a darker corner than this one."

As Chewbacca lead them away, Han scooted out of the wet booth in order to join them, hoping he didn't look like a girl had just thrown his drink in his face. He felt bad that he forgot her name, but didn't regret the outcome. Jenny was too charming, too easy, and too uncommitted. She was already laughing and chatting with a Rodian on the other side of the cantina.

Han slipped into the booth next to Chewie, the farm boy and the old man sitting in stools across from them.

  "Han Solo. I'm captain of the Millennium Falcon," he introduced breezily. With a nod towards his co-pilot, the smuggler continued, "Chewie here tells me you're looking for passage to the Alderaan system?"

  "Yes, indeed. If it's a fast ship," the old man responded. His dusty robes gave him away as a desert hermit.

  Solo scoffed. "Fast ship? You've never heard of the Millennium Falcon?"

  The hermit raised a white eyebrow. "Should I have?"

  "It's the ship that made the Kessel Run in less than twelve parsecs."

He was exaggerating, though he would never admit it, not even to himself. The kid seemed impressed, but the old man, however, needed a simpler example.

  "I've outrun Imperial starships. Not the local bulk cruisers, mind you. I'm taking about the big Corellian ships now. She's fast enough for you, old man? What's the cargo?"

  Still the old man wasn't impressed, but he did seem satisfied. "Only passengers. Myself, the boy, two droids, and no questions asked."

  Han chuckled under his breath. This fossil obviously had experience with this sort of deals, he'll give him that. But that last request gave him a bad feeling. He adjusted his collar to mask it. "What is it? Some kind of local trouble?"

  "Let's just say we'd like to avoid any Imperial entanglements."

  "Well, that's the real trick, isn't it?" He leaned forward. This was too easy. "And it's going to cost you something extra. Ten thousand, all in advance."

  The kid's mouth dropped. "Ten thousand? We could almost buy our own ship for that!"

  "But who's gonna fly it, kid? You?"

  "You bet I could. I'm not such a bad pilot myself!" He turned to the old man. "We don't have to sit here and listen–"

A gentle hand on the boy's shoulder calmed him enough for the kid to return to his seat.

  "We'll pay you two thousand now, plus fifteen when we reach Alderaan."

Both Han and the kid stared at the crazy old man in shock.

  "Seventeen?" Han repeated. The hermit nodded. "All right, you guys got yourself a ship. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Docking bay ninety-four."

  "Ninety-four," his now client repeated.

Behind them, Han caught the familiar white armor of Imperial Stormtroopers.

  "Looks like someone's beginning to take an interest in your handiwork."

His new passengers turned to look. The boy tensed and looked towards his elder anxiously. The old man, possibly his uncle or grandfather, calmly lifted his hood over his head, stood up, and dragged the kid into the shadows.

When the Stormtroopers approached their booth, Han and Chewie stared at them. Unnerved by the space pirates, mostly by the Wookiee, the troopers quickly moved on.

Now alone, Han slapped the table and grinned eagerly at his co-pilot.

  "Seventeen thousand! Those guys must really be desperate. This could really save my neck. Get back to the ship and get her ready."